


Dreamscape I

by Callasandra



Series: Dreamscapes [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 19:15:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4448882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callasandra/pseuds/Callasandra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The beginning of a great dream that I had over a year ago.  Maybe one day I will attempt to finish it.</p>
<p>There are many inconsistencies in the story.  I have not beta'd it at all.... As I said earlier it was from a dream, and dreams aren't always organized....</p>
<p>If I choose to finish the story, I will change the tags and ratings as I go...</p>
<p>Comments and Kudos are always appreciated!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreamscape I

I pulled my car up into the gravel parking area of the wine shack. I could see a couple of guys working on dismantling the structure, to be put away till next season. 

As I stepped out of the car, and the first person that I see is my old professor, who let out a terse “Hello,” before enveloping me in a bear hug. Phil was a man of few words, and as an undergrad, you always prayed that he was in a good mood, or at least not talking to you, if he happened to do speak during class.

The Shack was closing for the winter. It was an off sale business run by students and alumni of the Hospitality school during home games and other events. Now that Winter was approaching, it was time to close down till Spring. Since, the contents of the being mostly wine and spirits, that would parish, in the non-heated building, unopened stock would be sold back to vendors; opened bottles would be consumed at the next Alumni gathering.

I hear a couple of the guys, working on dismantling the coolers to load up and return to one of the department kitchens. I had come to pick up my final Stipend check, from working the season. 

As I rounded the corner, I stopped short. My crush was here. HE saw me and smiled his warm, bright smile. “Hey there.” He said in his thick Scottish accent. Dr. Duncan McDivitt, is a Professor of International Tourism in the department, he had come for the year from Glasgow, as part of an “exchange” program. I know that more than a few students melted over his accent, guys and girls alike; more than a few enrolled in his class, just to hear him talk. But as one of the campus research assistant, I had from time to time, spoken to him concerning Scottish history and folklore when I was researching information for Prof. Dean in the History department.

Duncan reached over the bar that separated us, and pulled out a folder that was stuck behind the till, that had my name on it. He handed me over the envelope that contains the check and also various reports about our Sales from the weekend. “Things went well, one of the best weekends yet.” I smiled at his enthusiasm. He also then held up a red wine bottle, “I think you earned a glass” He started to pour a glass of J. Lohr Cabernet, my absolute favorite wine (did he know that?) but stopped short. “But are you working tonight?” I worked PT nights at a local hotel call center, booking Hotel reservations for individuals on a national level. It helped out, when research assistant jobs were scarce.

“No, off tonight…” I started to say, but just then a group of older women came into the shack, one, was loaded down with mini bottles from the fridge, that was for sale. Even though the guys were tearing down the building, the “Store Closing” sale was still going on. A couple of the other, overzealous women, started asking Duncan questions concerning wine and beer that we still had available.

Duncan sat the bottle down on the counter, before he had even poured the glass of wine. “Ladies.” He stated, as he walked around the counter, opening his arms wide, welcoming them in. 

Bring his hand together, “How may I be of service to you today…” 

Two of the Ladies twittered to each other as the double innuendo meaning, and giggled to each other.


End file.
